


the more you feel (the less you show)

by essential_invisible



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Jessica Whitly-centric, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Protective Gil Arroyo, Protective Jessica Whitly, endgame Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essential_invisible/pseuds/essential_invisible
Summary: Jessica Whitly is not going to let her murderous ex-husband destroy her family again - and if she finally has to break her four-year moratorium on all things Gil Arroyo to do so, then that's what she's going to do.Jessica-centric fic that starts during 1.03 - Fear Response.
Relationships: Ainsley Whitly & Jessica Whitly, Gil Arroyo & Jessica Whitly, Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly, Jessica Whitly & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly
Kudos: 45





	the more you feel (the less you show)

**Author's Note:**

> This originally started out as a drabble response to the prompt of 'pining', but it kinda got away from me and now I have plans for a multi-chapter fic. Oops? 
> 
> I think Jessica's such a fascinating character, and I really wish we got to see more of her during the show. 
> 
> Dialogue taken from the episode.

“Ma’am?”

Adolpho’s voice cut through Jessica’s maudlin thoughts. “Wait here, I won’t be long,” she requested, closing the car door behind her. She stared up at the busy police station, and rubbed her temples, fighting the oncoming headache. Fixing a smile on her face, she walked into the station, asking for directions.

For the last four years, she’d managed to carefully sidestep any of Malcolm’s questions regarding Gil Arroyo and her avoidance of him. She knew that he thought it was because she’d been jealous of Jackie, of the place the other woman had held in his life - Jessica didn’t have it in her to tell her son that he was only half-right this time. Jackie had been a calming presence in Malcolm’s life - and as much as she didn’t particularly like that she couldn’t be that for her son, she was _grateful_ that Malcolm had someone else to go to. No, her feelings of jealousy had nothing to do with Malcolm and everything to do with _Gil_.

Coming to terms with her feelings for Gil had involved several bottles of scotch, restless nights and a long period of wallowing, before she’d locked the feelings away, determined that neither he nor Jackie would ever find out. She’d slowly stepped back, pulled on the mask of a bored socialite, and told herself that she wasn’t disappointed when no one seemed to look past it and see _her_. It was what she wanted, after all.

Four years later, the sight of Gil stopping her short, she realized that the feelings hadn’t gone anywhere – had become stronger. She inhaled sharply, taking a moment to settle her rioting emotions, before apologising. He stood from his desk as she offered her condolences. The voice in the back of her head whispered _too little, too late_ , and she tried not to flinch as he echoed the words, in slightly kinder terms than she would have. She still felt about an inch tall. He followed up, talking about how Jackie had loved Malcolm like a son.

“She was kind,” she said slowly in response, her heart aching. She hadn’t expected Gil to think that of her, to assume that she would be so petty as to ignore them, to miss Jackie’s funeral because she was jealous of the woman. She’d been prepared to go, wanting to offer support for Malcolm even if Gil wanted nothing to do with her. She’d been too much of a coward in the end, afraid that seeing Gil so destroyed would destroy _her_ , that she wouldn’t be able to watch him suffer and know that she couldn’t do anything to help him without revealing her own feelings. The shame of that had sent her spiralling into yet another bottle of scotch.

She could deal with his anger though – it was better than the pity she knew she’d receive if he ever discovered the truth. “But she wasn’t his mother.” Jessica paused, clenching her hands around the handle of her bag, knowing her next words would hurt. “And you aren’t his father.”

Gil shook his head. “You don’t want Malcolm to work with me.”

She thought about this morning, watching him dangle from the window, a result of night terrors that seem to have gotten worse since he’d seen that monster again. “No. I don’t want my son to continue to throw his life away doing penance for his father’s crimes.” She looked away from him, reigning in her emotions. “I also imagine the salary leaves something to be desired,” she quipped, trying to settle herself.

He gave a short laugh. “Malcolm is a grown man.”

“And you are the grown man who befriended him, who swore to protect him, and then sent him back into the arms of that _monster_.” She strode to the desk, frustrated.

“I didn’t know – ”

“You had a case to close,” she interrupted angrily. “You knew Gil, more than anyone, you _knew_.”

“Yeah, who sent him there in the first place?” he shot back.

Jessica exhaled, the sound loud in the sudden silence. She stepped back, rocked by his words, anger fizzling into hurt as she replied, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m sorry.” Gil offered quietly.

“I was losing him. Malcolm worshipped his father.” Even now, saying the words hurt. “I thought if he could see what he really was, he’d come back to me.”

“Jessica, he was eleven!”

“I was wrong!” She thought she’d been doing right by her son, but she’d made the wrong choice and Malcolm had been paying for it ever since. “Help me fix it,” she pleaded.

For a long moment, Gil was silent. Then he shook his head, and she knew that he wasn’t going to do anything. “Malcolm Bright does whatever Malcolm Bright wants to do. We can’t control him.”

“Speak for yourself,” she bit out, before striding from the room, closing the door firmly behind her. She took a moment to lean on the door, calming herself, before shaking it off and making her way out of the precinct.

:::

Later, she sat at her vanity, staring into the mirror. Her hand was wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey, knuckles white with the force of her grip. Twenty years, twenty god-damn years she’d kept her promise. She couldn’t help but resent Gil a little, for forcing her hand. If he’d just – she drained the whiskey and refilled the glass mindlessly. It wasn’t Gil’s fault, she’d made the decision to see him, but Christ, she’d spent a long time trying to forget that monster. Now in the space of twenty minutes, twenty years of hard work had gone down the drain. Martin’s voice echoed in her ears, taunting her about raising their children, a mockery of the man she thought he’d been before… before everything.

She was never going to escape him. Her murderous ex-husband was always going to be there, in her life, in her _children’s_ lives. She’d been deadly serious when she’d asked Ainsley if she could sleep at night. Jessica didn’t suffer from the debilitating night terrors like Malcolm did, but sleep was elusive, held down by alcohol and a range of pills. That Ainsley could sleep calmly, that she didn’t remember Martin? It was the _one_ thing that Jessica knew she’d done right in raising her kids.

She sipped from the glass this time, before her eyes found the pile of clothes she’d left on the floor. She’d stripped as soon as she’d entered her bedroom, unable to wear them anymore. Martin’s leer as he’d looked her up and down still made her feel nauseous. Not for the first time she wondered how he’d hidden the monster inside from her, how she hadn’t seen it then. His voice had said all the right things today, but she’d flinched the moment he’d reached out to her. After all this time, she was still terrified of him and she hated it. Hated that she’d been weak enough to tell him that, hated that she’d had to beg him to stop seeing Malcolm. Oh but she’d do worse than swallow her pride for her children, to keep Martin from trying to ruin them, and now he knows it too.

She was never going to escape him. 


End file.
